By Coincidence
by Jessica237
Summary: The last time she'd seen him in bed, he'd been in her bed. And that was the difference six years and several thousand miles could make. Possible spoilers for episode 15x19. Carby.


**Title:** By Coincidence  
**By: **Jessica237  
**Pairing:** Carter/Abby  
**Rating: **K+**  
Timeline:** Missing scene for 15x19; Old Times.  
**Summary:** The last time she'd seen him in bed, he'd been in _her _bed. And that was the difference six years and several thousand miles could make.

**A/N:** It's been years since I've dabbled in the ER fandom; it's also been awhile since I've kept up with the show as faithfully as I once did. I guess you could say I've come and gone with Carter in the past several seasons. And apparently I meant what I said all those years ago when I swore "Carby to the end," lol. Anyway, it's been fun revisiting these two, and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

It _was_ him. Abby couldn't believe it.

It was such a common name, Carter. Even Carters who were doctors had to be quite numerous. And yet, the moment she'd heard the name, somehow, she had just _known_.

It defied all the odds. Last Abby had heard, John Carter was in Africa. And she'd moved to Boston with Luka and Joe.

And yet, here they both were, back in Chicago. By some coincidence, they were both in the same hospital at the same time, and by an even stranger coincidence, Abby had managed to pick his name out of all the conversation she'd taken in on the way out.

And now she stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame as she watched him sleep. It was ironic; in the year that they'd spent together, Abby had never once understood the fascination he'd seemed to have with watching her sleep, and now she was the one who couldn't stop watching him. If the setting weren't so obviously a hospital, Abby might not have guessed that he was sick. So peaceful he looked, despite the stiffness of the bedsheets; despite the pillows behind his head that Abby knew couldn't be as soft as he was used to.

But still he looked comfortable in sleep, and Abby couldn't help but smile softly. His chest rose and fell steadily as he slept, and Abby found herself wondering once more just what he dreamed. Of Kem, perhaps? Or maybe of nights beneath the African sky, the very definition of worlds away. And if Abby would allow the thoughts to continue, she couldn't ignore the selfish hope that maybe he still dreamed of her, every once in a while.

Maybe as often as she still dreamed of him…every once in a while.

But despite lingering flickers of a flame long extinguished, Abby forced those thoughts away, knowing she and Carter were now as far apart as Chicago and Africa. She had her life; he had his, and it was by mere coincidence that their paths had crossed once more.

With a soft sigh, Abby stepped quietly inside, taking the greatest care not to wake him even as she stopped at his bedside, brushing a knuckle against his pallid cheek. She knew not all of the grisly details, but she knew enough to know that he could've looked much worse. For the most part, he still looked like the John Carter she'd come to know, to fall in love with, and to fall back to reality without over the course of their time at County.

Oh, the difference that six years and several thousand miles could make. The last time she'd seen him in bed, he'd been in _her_ bed, staring up at the ceiling beside her, listening to the rain and thunder overhead. It'd been among the last of the good nights they'd spent together, and as she reminisced upon them now, Abby felt the stirrings of unresolved heartache threatening to creep up within her. Despite the happiness she'd found at home with Luka and Joe, she had never completely gotten over John Carter – there would always be a piece of her heart that belonged to him, whether she liked it or not.

Letting out a breath, Abby gave into the temptation to reach out to him again, brushing her fingers lightly through his short brown hair. Still he didn't stir – no sigh, no twitch, nothing. "I don't know how you can manage to sleep in this place," Abby commented quietly, her amused voice barely above a whisper. "But then again, if you could manage to find sleep at all back at County, you can sleep anywhere, right?"

Abby paused, her eyes flickering briefly to his lips – she thought she'd caught the slightest hint of a twitch at the corners. But there was nothing, and Abby shrugged it off as merely a fragment of her imagination, perhaps a secret desire. She couldn't deny there was a part of her that would love for him to wake up, to see her here now. It'd been so long since she'd looked into his captivating eyes…

With a slight smile of her own, Abby perched gingerly on the side of the bed, watching carefully as Carter slept. "You know, I'm feeling kind of guilty here; the least you could do is wake up and tell me it's not my fault," she teased, lightly stroking his hair. Though her teasing was light, there _was _a slight bit of guilt that lurked just beneath the surface, and even though Abby _had_ moved past it, the remnants were eager to rear their ugly heads.

She'd pushed him away, all those years ago. She'd pushed him so far that he'd ended up on the other side of the world. And it was being in Africa that had landed him here in this bed now, waiting on a kidney transplant. But even Abby had to admit that as easily as she could blame that on herself, she could just as easily blame it on Paul Sobriki for destroying his other kidney, leaving him with only the one.

Even so, Abby couldn't help but give a self-deprecating chuckle, shaking her head softly. "Just think, if it weren't for me, you might not be here now – everything _was_ always my fault with us, wasn't it? Guess I should take the blame for this too…"

But it wasn't rueful despair with which she spoke, the kind he'd left her alone with several years before, the clouds with which she'd darkened over a year of his life. Abby was beyond that now; so far beyond that and out on the other side, finding herself with a kind of stability in her life that she'd never thought possible, not for her.

Her words now were filled with dry humor, the likes of which had drawn Carter to her in the first place, or so he'd said late one night. "I told you I'd end up ruining your life, somehow," she joked quietly, enveloping his hand in hers. "Maybe _now_ you believe me."

He'd given no impression of being awake, let alone even noticing her presence. No squeezing of her hand, no irregularity in his breathing. To Abby, he was resting, dreaming, saving his energy for the surgery ahead.

And then came the hoarse, scratchy words that startled her, sending her heart into overdrive. "Not yet, exactly…"

"Carter!" Abby hissed, laying a hand over her heart, unable to suppress the grin that touched her lips as she gazed down at him, watching as he opened his eyes to her. And though they were reddened and tired, they still held that boyish, playful sparkle that had beckoned her to fall for him years ago. "How - how long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," he replied, giving her that disarming grin of his. "Almost fell asleep, though, waiting for you to move from the doorway…"

Abby smiled, glancing down to their hands. Carter had turned his underneath hers, bringing them palm to palm. "I was trying to figure out if it was really you in here or not, all things considering…" She looked back to him, grinning. "What are the odds, right?"

Carter smirked. "You always found some way to defy those odds, though." Abby gave a quiet chuckle, feeling Carter's eyes upon her as he shifted against the back of the bed. "So…what _are_ you doing here?" he asked, curious.

Abby shook her head, smiling. "I was, uh, visiting an old, I guess mentor of mine, and on my way out, I heard someone say your name. And I was curious." She grinned, her dark eyes sparkling. "You look good," she commented playfully, coaxing a light chuckle from Carter.

"Not as good as you," he replied, unable to stop his eyes from roaming over her. Compared to the Abby he used to know, this Abby _did_ look amazing. Happy. Alive. It was as though she'd finally cast away the burden she'd carried upon her shoulders for so many long years, the burden she'd insisted on carrying alone. She was…she was beautiful, and Carter felt his heart flutter, just slightly. This was the Abby he'd fantasized about making his life with; this was the Abby he'd dreamed of, her steps slow and purposeful as she made her way down the aisle toward him. This was the Abby he'd fallen for, the Abby he'd caught but short glimpses of before both their lives had caved in around them.

She gave a casual roll of her eyes, and Carter couldn't help but grin – it seemed some things never changed, at least. "I mean it," he continued, his voice serious as she reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. It was another of her signature nervous habits, and Carter noted it for what it was. Within him, though, he couldn't help but latch onto that thread, remembering all too clearly how skilled Abby was at pretending all was fine.

And he knew that when all that remained was the scent of her subtle perfume, he'd have no choice but to delve deeply into those thoughts, letting them materialize as he lay here, forbidden from eating, from drinking, and much too restless to seek out slumber. Perhaps it was all just another façade; was Abby really happy? Did she finally find everything she'd always wanted; everything she'd always deserved? If he'd held out just a bit longer, might she have found that with him?

They were answerless questions, and there was never any sense in pondering the _what if_s of the past – after all, if Carter had the answers to those questions, he'd have an entirely different set of inquiries flooding his mind. It was a never-ending cycle, after all, and all he could do to leave it behind was exactly that – leave the past behind.

Lingering on the past, after all, was futile, especially when he had this one moment in the present; this one thread of time that had been woven in just the right pattern for his life to once more cross hers.

Closing his eyes momentarily, Carter swallowed, his mouth like cotton – at this point, he would swear he'd die of thirst rather than from his ailing kidney. "How – how long are you here?" he asked, indulging himself enough to squeeze Abby's warm hand.

Glancing down at her watch, Abby frowned, mentally calculating the time until her flight back to Boston. There wasn't much, she realized; in fact, just by making this little detour, she was pushing it. "I'm actually headed back to Boston as soon as I leave here," she said quietly, reluctantly pulling herself back to her feet. Her eyes downcast, she missed the brief flicker of disappointment that passed through Carter's eyes. "I probably should've been at the airport half an hour ago," she continued, chuckling lightly at herself.

And yet, still she hesitated. Abby found herself surrounded by silence, a silence broken only by the steady tick of the clock. It seemed to grow louder and louder in her ears the longer she stood there, and finally, predictably, it became too much for her. There was a charge to the entire moment, and Abby couldn't help but feel old instincts start to creep back in. _This was a bad idea_, she thought, biting anxiously at the inside of her cheek.

He could read through her expression with an accuracy he'd lacked in the past – either he'd grown better at reading people, or Abby had gotten worse at hiding. Carter could tell immediately what was going through her mind, not to mention through her heart – _that_ he was feeling as well. It wasn't something Abby could let herself feel, though, not at this point in time, and Carter knew he'd be able to tell from a mile away that she was prepared to run. Through all that had changed between them in so many years, there were far too many other things that would forever remain the same.

He'd always thought one of those reliable constants would be their friendship, and after that too had been stripped away from him in the wake of their dissolving relationship, Carter had found himself missing her more than ever. "Don't be a stranger," he requested, and even Abby couldn't deny the slight plea in his eyes. He had always let her see right through his walls, and now was no exception. "I _do _miss you…"

But even now, Abby wasn't sure that she could make that promise, not _that_ one, at least. Being away from him was what had forced her to get her life together, leading her to where she was now. To reopen that door would inevitably reopen old wounds, old desires, and Abby wasn't certain that she could do that, not again. Whatever residual feelings this visit had stirred within her…she had a family now, and she couldn't walk away from them.

She knew Carter wasn't asking for _that_, but the lines were still blurred there, at least for her. The closer she allowed herself to come to that line, the farther she'd be across it before she even realized it, and that wasn't something she could afford, not now.

Squeezing his hand, Abby lingered for a moment at his bedside, her dark eyes growing wistful for only a brief moment, so brief that it was there and gone before Carter could even be fully sure of what he'd seen. "I'll be thinking of you," she promised, knowing at least that that much was true. "You'll call me, though, when you're out of surgery, right? Just so I know…"

"Of course," he whispered, feeling a sudden chill rush through his fingers and along the length of his arm as Abby released his hand, though he shook it off and forced a smile instead.

Easily she returned his smile, her eyes lighting up in a way he'd only seen but a few times in the past. "Good," she replied, and with a deep breath, she allowed herself the tiniest of temptations. Lowering her head, she brushed her lips innocently against his cheek, just a gentle, quick peck. "Good luck, then," she said, finally taking that first step back. With one last spoken goodbye, Abby smiled once more as she turned away from him, making her way to the door, feeling as though the path had doubled from when she'd crossed it before.

"You take care," Carter called softly after her retreating form, grateful for the smile she flashed at him over her shoulder, never noticing the frown it became once her face was turned away from him.

"You too," she called back easily, wishing it was as simple to walk away from him as she'd made it seem. But even after all those years, she was still the best at pretending. With one last look back, the confident clack of her heels against the hard floor below carried her away from him, her quick steps putting forth the picture of the woman who had all she wanted, all she needed; the woman who had merely bid a casual goodbye to an old friend before heading home to her family.

But deep inside, locked away in a section of her heart to which she'd _tried_ to lose the key, Abby couldn't keep herself from holding out hope that one day they'd find each other once more, just another coincidental crossing of paths between two worlds that were thousands of miles apart.


End file.
